Christmas Cheer
by Jellicos
Summary: [On Hiatus!] Someone left a present under Catherine's tree. Yupp, that's all. Well, there is payback involved. And teasing. And that crime solving thing they do. Twists and turns. CathSara femslash. Mature themes ahead!
1. The Gift

**Christmas cheer. **

_Disclaimer: Property of Jerry Bruckheimer and his minions, I own nothing. _

_Well, it's Christmas, I was bored, and realised I hadn't written a single Christmas story! So in between cleaning and cooking, I started this. It's not great and very chliché, but it's Christmas-y._

_Happy Holidays!_

_Jellicos_

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"Mo-om!" If I just closed my eyes real tight, then the noise would stop. "Mom! Common! Wake up!" But the whining didn't stop, and soon there was a little blonde tornado running through my bedroom. "Mommy, mommy, wake up! It's Christmas!" She exclaimed in the kind of joy you literally only found in seven year old kids on Christmas morning.

"Linds, it's so early." I tried, but I knew before I'd opened my mouth that it was in vain.

"Santa left presents!" She explained, and in her mind that was a perfectly logical reason for climbing on top of your mother at six in the morning, screaming.

"Five more minutes baby…" I pleaded, but my sentence ended with a loud groan as a surprisingly heavy little girl landed on my back. "Ouch!"

"Please mommy…" She pleaded with those big blue puppy-dog eyes. Damn, she's good. I sighed.

"Alright…" I didn't get further before she jumped up with a loud cheer and I had to raise my newly awakened voice to get her attention. "Go switch on the coffee maker and I'll be out in two seconds, okay?"

"Hurry mommy!" She ran out, leaving me wishing I had a quarter of her energy right now.

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Fifteen minutes later, my daughter was sitting beside the tree, drowning in ripped wrapping paper. She was smiling so brightly as she opened her last package I had a hard time looking away as I sipped my morning coffee.

There had been a huge stack of presents, my sister and mom had gone out of their way this year and I have to say I was a bit impressed at how quickly Lindsey had managed to plough her way through all those gifts in a quarter of an hour.

"The Superstar Dance off game!" She shrieked of joy as she ran up to hug me, almost knocking both me and my cup to the floor.

"I'm glad you like it baby." I laughed as I hugged her back, placing my coffee safely out of the way on the table.

"I love it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped up and down a couple of times before flinging herself back down on the floor next to her game. I silently wondered how rich I'd be if I found a way to bottle her energy.

"Can we play?" Lindsey asked, her hopeful eyes twinkling of excitement.

"Let's start by cleaning up the worst of this." I picked up some of the wrapping paper, ignoring the little pout on my daughter's face. "After that we'll go out get some Christmas breakfast and we can play when we get back home, okay?" I looked up to see her smiling again.

"Okay." She agreed and pointedly placed her game on the middle of the coffee table, just so we wouldn't forget it.

"Common, help me out here." I asked as I grabbed a big plastic bag to stuff all the wrapping paper in. Lindsey hurriedly started crumpling paper up, apparently realising that we weren't going anywhere until it was all cleaned up.

"Hey mom?" She called from the floor after finding a way to get to all the paper by crawling under the Christmas tree. "We missed one!"

"What?" That couldn't be, I was sure we'd gotten through all the gifts I'd laid out last night.

"Here!" Lindsey scrambled up from under the tree, pine needles in her hair and a crumbled, red package in her hands. "It's for you." She stated and handed it too me.

And she was right; the present was marked with my name. There was no second name, no indication who it was from. I knew I recognised the handwriting, but I couldn't for the life of me remember whose it was.

"Who's it from?" Lindsey asked as if on cue, but I just shook my head.

"It doesn't say." I told her, still starring at the package. It was nicely wrapped, and pretty heavy.

"Open it mommy!" She was ready to tear the package from my arms, so I decided I'd better get cracking before she'd torn it open herself.

It was carefully wrapped, but it didn't take me long to get it open. Once I did however, I thought my heart would burst.

"Wow…." I could hear Lindsey whisper her awe as I held the sparkling antique music box gingerly in my hands. It was perfect, the frosted glass, the gilded décor, the two little girls' ice skating on the lake. As I opened the lid, the tears welled up. It was the same song I remembered from when I was a little girl.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" I realised I'd been crying as Lindsey's worried words reached me, so I smiled and wiped my cheeks.

"Oh honey, nothing is wrong." I pulled her too me and rested my head on her soft hair so I could keep her close but still let her get a good look at the box. "My grandma used to sing this song for me when I was little."

"You sang it to me too." She added as she carefully traced her finger over the little golden leaves on the sides of the box.

"Mom, look, there's a note inside." She reached into the box a little too fast, but by some miracle managed to avoid tipping it out of my hands.

"Lindsey!"

"Sorry." God, how I was supposed to be mad at this child was beyond me. Instead I told her to be more careful and took the little note from her hands.

"Merry Christmas Catherine, love…" I trailed off, this couldn't be right. I mean... how... no.

"Who's it from mommy?" She asked, her eyes darting from me to the note and back. It couldn't be… could it?

"Get your coat baby, we're going for breakfast." I quickly got up to run to my bedroom. She was not getting away with this.

"But mom…" She started and I turned at the foot of the stairs.

"We're making a little stop first." Oh no, there was no way she'd get away with this. I don't know how she managed to find out about the song, or the ice skating, even how she managed to get the present under my tree. But there was no way I was going to let her have the last word, that was my thing. And I was sure as hell gonna look good doing it, meaning I needed to change out of my pyjamas.

Skipping up the stairs, I suddenly realised what a magical time of year Christmas really was. And there was another someone who was soon about to find out the same.

Beware the holiday cheer, Sara Sidle.

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_Merry Christmas everybody!_

_Jellicos_


	2. In the Heat of War

**In the heat of war.**

_I forgot to write this in the first chapter; this one is for Foxy Nighthawk and Gryffindor620 for dragging me away from my West Wing fics for a second, and for ReversedSam… I don't really like Christmas either, so, I'm chanelling that through Sara;)  
And of course, for all of you who take the time to read and rub my gigantic ego with your reviews. What would I ever do without you:) You rock!!_

_Enjoy my darlings!_

_Jellicos_

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"We wish you a crappy Christmas, we wish you a crappy Christmas, we wish you a crappy Christmas and a sucky new year." I really didn't care if I was being childish, this holiday sucked and singing altered lyrics made me feel better. Besides, I was bored.

Grissom had refused to let me work and there was nothing on TV except those damned Disney Christmas specials. If you weren't depressed before, you would be after ten minutes of cute little kids with too white smiles and freakishly big eyes, convincing the world that Santa really existed. So, instead I was spending Christmas day cleaning my bathtub and singing my own version of traditional Christmas carols.

The knock on my door caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting any company and this was a rather odd time for a surprise visit.

Wiping my hands and face on the closest towel, I stood up and made my way out into the hallway. The insistent knock continues and maybe that's why I open the door without looking through the peep hole.

"Lindsey?" To say I was shocked would be a terrible understatement. There is little Lindsey Willows, dressed from head to toe in thick pink overalls, hat, scarf, mittens and thick insulated boots. Sure, it was snowing in Las Vegas for the first time since I moved here, but really, snow overalls was a little much, even for Catherine.

"Sara, common!" She grabbed at my hand but because of her thick mittens she couldn't get a proper grip.

"Easy Lindsey." I had to smile at her excitement. "What are you doing here? Where's your mommy?" She had to be around here somewhere, there is no way she'd ever leave Lindsey. But what were they doing here? And where exactly was Catherine?

"She's waiting downstairs, get you coat." God, she was much too like her mother when she was ordering me around like that. Needless to say, I grabbed my jacket off the hanger and wrapped it around me.

"Are you alright, is Catherine?" I had to ask. Not that Lindsey didn't seem perfectly fine, and I know she wouldn't have come to me if anything had happened to Catherine. Actually, I didn't even know that they knew where I lived.

"We're fine Sara, now hurry up, it's snowing!" As she dragged me towards the elevator I couldn't help but think that those Disney movies would be so much better if those obnoxious little brats had been a little more like Lindsey.

"Down here Sara." I had no idea where she was going, but the little path we were on between the apartment buildings only lead to one place.

"Linds, why are we going to my backyard?" I asked as I was manhandled through the winter cold by a seven-year-old with unusually strong hands.

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" She stopped and looked at me, but I was so thrown that I didn't say anything. That was just freakishly Catherine-like. So the little Willows just grabbed my hand again with a shake of her head and pulled me into the tiny little yard between the buildings.

"What the…" Okay, did I fall into the tub and bang my head? There was no way Catherine was standing behind my house, a big smile on her face, using both her hands and arms and everything else she could to scrape the thin layer of snow from the ground and place it on the dirty little heap of snow that I'd call the beginning of a snowman if it wasn't so… well, pathetic.

"Alright Sidle, get your ass over here, this snowman isn't going to build itself." She said as she proudly slapped some more snow onto the little shapeless heap that almost reached her knees.

"Catherine, have you gone insane?" I sceptically looked around as Lindsey let go of my hand and ran to aid her delusional mother.

"Don't be such a curmudgeon, Sara." Did she just call me a…

"Curmudgeon?!" I gaped, but quickly shut my mouth as she turned and smirked at me. Open mouth and Catherine smirking is not a good idea, it equals drooling, which is very bad.

"What are you doing here?" I had to ask, I didn't want to seem rude, but I had to know. This was just a bit too surreal not to.

We weren't friends. Sure we were civil, even friendly at work now days, but that was a far cry from making snowmen in each other's yards. That's when it hit me; the gift.

"Making a snowman, now are you going to help or just stand there looking confused?" At least she didn't comment on the seasonal shade of red my face must have taken as I realised what must have caused this. She didn't say a word about it, and as long as she didn't, I wouldn't. Maybe this was her way of saying thanks?

I'd had a slight case of brain-function-loss when I decided it would be a good idea to actually give her the music box I'd bought ages ago. I'd seen it in the store window of this little antique toy store in the outskirts of Las Vegas. I'd thought of her, or more precisely, the box had screamed her name, so I bought it. I still couldn't remember what I thought at the time. We hardly spoke to each other and I never thought I'd get a chance to give it to her. I wasn't even sure I wanted to at the time; she'd probably have smashed it against my head.

But then, when the opportunity arose, my brain decided to run out on me and make me do stupid things. But now, seeing Catherine and Lindsey building sad looking snow-things in my yard, I'm suddenly very thankful that I'm an idiot.

"I think you're being a bit too optimistic." I reasoned, picking up a handful of snow. "Snow-cat maybe." I grinned as she turned, her eyes squinting and her expression showing I was in for it now.

"Are you mocking my snowman Sidle?" She asked, hands on her hips and I could hear a distinct 'uh-oh' in an amused tone from the little girl on my right.

"I sure am, and what are you gonna do about it Willows?" I asked, loving the fact that I got to see this playful side of her, the one usually reserved for, well, not me.

She looked amazing. Her blonde curls sticking out from under a big grey knitted hat, a matching scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, covering the neckline of her beige overcoat. Her hair was ruffled, her cheeks were pink from the cold and the gleam in her eyes was priceless.

All this I managed to take in and think through before something hit my left shoulder. Did she just throw a snowball at me? Oh, she was so on!

"How's that?" She grinned before picking up more snow.

"You're mine Willows." I warned as I started forming the snow in my hands.

"Mmm, you're gonna have to work a little harder than that, Sidle." Oh my god, was she flirting with me? Suddenly the air seemed a little hard to breathe and the world turned slightly dazed, this couldn't be real, I'd fallen in my bathroom, hit my head and soon I'd wake up covered in soap with a pounding headache on the bottom of my semi-cleaned tub. It was always how these things ended, well not so much with the unconsciousness in the bathroom as a dream in bed, but still. She never joked like that with me. Never. She could make those kinds of jokes with Warrick and Nick, even Grissom sometimes, but never me. Did this mean she liked my gift? That we were becoming friends? She couldn't know…

I was harshly pulled out of my thoughts by something wet, cold and hard smacking me in the back of the neck.

"Hey, not fair!" I shouted as I heard the giggles from behind me. "You're two against one!" I protested as Lindsey high-fived her mom for her sneak attack on me.

"What, too scared to take us on?" Oh, that raised brow of hers was the ultimate dare.

"You're going down, both of you." I stated as I hurled my first snowball at Catherine. Wow, she did look sexy with snow in her hair.

"Get her!" The lovely and snowy CSI encouraged her daughter. The last thing I saw was a lot of blonde tussle before my face was covered in snow.

The war was on.

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"More cacao?" I was in heaven. Or my version of it anyway. Tired and drenched from the snowball fight, we'd made our way into my apartment to get dried off. Lindsey had fought her way through half a cup of hot cacao before her eyes gave up the struggle and she dozed off in my couch. Like any kid, she's completely adorable when she's asleep.

Catherine is sitting beside me, her hair still wet and clinging to her face and shoulders. She's wearing a pair of my jeans and my only blue top and my god does she look gorgeous.

It's been a perfect afternoon and the two of us have spent several hours just chatting, about everything and nothing. I'd never imagined we could have so much in common, that we could just sit and talk so easily, joking and laughing. I don't do that a lot, but with her it's just easy.

She didn't even comment on the complete lack of Christmas décor in my place.

"I can't, we need to get going." I wasn't prepared for how those words would affect me and I cursed myself for being this weak. I don't rely on people in that way, not for company. I like that I can be alone, that I don't mind it but rather prefer it, and it bothers me that I don't want her to leave.

"Oh, yeah, of course." I shake my head as if I'd been thinking the same thing but it just momentarily slipped my mind. Out of the corner of my eye I see her face, and I could have sworn I just saw a look of disappointment cross her face. It must be all the hot cacao I've had.

"I promised my mom we'd stop by." She informs me and I just nod my head. Of course she has to go, it's Christmas day.

"You need a hand?" I ask, cocking my head in Lindsey's direction with a little smile. She returns my smile and casts an affectionate glance at her sleeping daughter.

"No, it's ok. I've got it." She says, but doesn't stand. "Thank you, for today." She adds and I feel my heart swell. She had a good time with me. Yay!

"No, thank you. I don't think I've had a better Christmas day." I say honestly and I see the knowing look in her eyes. For a moment I can't help but wonder if she knows, if she somehow found out about my past, or if she just drew her own conclusions from today.

"I'm glad." She smiles. That's when it happens, when my brain turns to coleslaw and my limbs transforms into something you normally would associate with green monsters in old gore-flicks. "And I've never gotten a better Christmas present." She whispers softly as she leans forward and places a soft kiss on my cheek. "Thank you Sara." She whispers against my cheek, and I know she can feel my body tremble at how her breath caresses my skin.

Then she's standing. I don't move; my limbs are on strike. I don't speak; my vocal chords have lost all function. And she's gone, with Lindsey hoisted up in her arms, drooping over her shoulder, she's gone.

What the hell just happened? I don't know whether to kick myself for being an idiot and letting the best chance of my life run through my fingers, or comb through my fridge to see what left-over's are laced with acid.

Too many choices and my mind is still in the state to be made into a salad, so I decide to turn on the TV instead.

And who knew, someone replaced all the annoying little brats in the Disney specials with cute little kids. Why can't the grown ups just see Santa is real?

Shit… I'm in trouble. And it's all her fault.

Its payback time Catherine Willows.

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_Merry Christmas to all, and to all some good smut… well, I'm writing this thing, of course there will be smut eventually.  
Thank you all for reading:)_

_Jellicos _


	3. Dangerous Games

_Thank you all for your wonderful words! You blow me away with your kindness!  
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this, silly holidays and travel got in the way. But I'm back and since the holidays are over and our two lovely ladies do need to get back to work, I'm taking a break from the theme of the story for a chapter or two. Don't worry though; they still have New Years Eve to look forward to :)  
I hope you like it. Feedback is much appreciated, so is any advice on how to improve my writing or stories. Thank you._

_Jellicos_

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**Chapter three: Dangerous Games**

The worst thing about Christmas is that no matter how hard I try, it all comes to an end. Every single year.

It's not that I'm so terribly wild about Christmas that I mourn its passing. No, it has more to do with having to go to work after having several days off with my little girl.

Have you ever tried to tell a seven year old why work is so important that you can't spend the day with her?

Although I must admit my spirits rose as I stepped foot in the break room. Well, both my spirits and my eyebrows.

"Sara?" I couldn't hide that chuckle if I'd wanted to.

"Hey Catherine." She flashes me that gap-toothed grin that for the past few days had seemed to have funny effects on my body.

Oh, she is attractive I'd noticed that from the start. I'd have to be blind not to. That smile was the first I noticed, along with those soulfully deep smoothly dark eyes. Well, that and her body. Who could not notice legs that go on forever only to finally be attached to a toned killer body? Uhm, yeah, perhaps not the train of thought I should be having in a packed break room.

The point is that I always knew she was attractive, but it wasn't until just of late that I've come to realise that I'm attracted to her, in the sense that someone must have stuck a magnet in my stomach that seemed to gravitate in all kinds of funny directions around her.

And now she's sitting there, happily sipping her coffee with a damn Santa hat on her head! It's too cute.

"Hey…" I offer tentatively as I make my way over to the coffee pot. "You seem to be in the Christmas spirit this year." I say as I start to pour the dark liquid into my cup.

Warrick is playing it cool, flipping through some magazine that like all the others in the room is dated back at least seven months.

Nick on the other hand isn't as successful in hiding his amusement as a wide grin breaks out on his face every time he glances in Sara's direction, something he tries but fails to avoid.

"Yeah, it was something about all this snow that just puts me in such a good mood." Her voice is casual but the look she's giving me says differently and I find myself smiling. Seems our little snow-adventure really did lighten her spirits and suddenly I find my chest start to swell.

Oh shit.

My body tenses at the reaction because I realise just what it means. Oh shit, oh shit, not good!

"Sorry, I left…" I try to come up with a decent explanation, but fail desperately. So I decide to forget it, I just need to get out of here for a second. Without another word, I leave.

I'm not quite sure how I ended up in my office. Of course I walked here; I just can't really remember doing so.

As I close the door I realise my coffee cup is still in my hand and I put it down carefully on my desk before my legs start pacing the room.

Shit, shit, shit. Ok, thinking is a good strategy; this isn't the end of the world.

I stop and take a deep breath. It's not logical; I don't know her well enough to have these types of feelings.

Ok, standing still isn't working. I start pacing again, my hands suddenly buried in my hair.

Alright, let's be rational about this. I've known her for three years; we work together, side by side almost daily. How could I not have seen this coming?!

I'm not sure if I'm scared, shocked or just pissed. I spend one day with the woman and all of a sudden I have these feelings around her? I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I'd actually decided to get to know her sooner. I know everyone else around here.

Sure, it's easier for me to hang around men; it's always been like that. I have tried to make more girlfriends, but it just ends up a mess in the end. Women rarely like me, and I'm not so stupid I don't know why.

I'm a flirt, I'm tactile, I like it when people look at me and I like to feel appreciated. There's nothing conceited about it, it's just who I am, and usually men are more inclined to accept that then women.

Maybe I just assumed she'd be like that, and really, I didn't have to assume a lot because she has told me more than once, but I guess I deserved it at the time.

Either way, this is insane. Sure, I've had feelings for women before; I've even slept with a few. Well, two, and I'm not sure the second time counts because I was pretty wasted, but my point is that the thing freaking me out isn't that she's a woman, it's that she's Sara Sidle.

I've caught her watching me a few times, but never read much into it. Why should I? She's never given me any indication that there might be more to her gazes than just friendly appreciation, women watch other women. And she's straight, she's dated men; I've seen her date men. And Grissom for crying out loud!

Only time I've ever been surprised by her actions was in the past few days. The music box, now that was a surprise. I'm still not quite sure why she gave it to me, or how she knew. But I'm starting to realise that maybe this is who she is, thoughtful like that.

The way she responded to my thanks was a bit of a surprise too. Or her lack of reaction I should say. Maybe she was shocked. Yeah, that would be a logical reaction.

I come to a halt, take a few deep breaths and tell myself I really should be getting back out there. Grissom will be there waiting to hand out assignments and honestly, I can't stand thinking much more right now. Especially since I have no idea what's going on with me.

So with a final nod of my head at my decision, the one I still haven't made, I walk out of my office and back to the break room, my cup of coffee still on my desk.

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When I return, Grissom is nowhere to be seen, but my co-workers are flipping through their folders and papers of assigned cases.

I notice Sara's hair is slightly ruffled and her Santa hat is gone. Damn, I get the feeling I've ruined something, I'm just not sure how or what.

"You okay?" She asks as she walks up to me, looking at me like she's concerned.

"Fine." I flash her a little smile but she doesn't seem completely convinced. Luckily she leaves it at that.

"Here." She hands me the papers she was looking through. Seems like we're on the same case today. "I'm driving." She adds and is out the door before I can object.

A fifteen minute drive and half an hour of processing later, I find myself starring at a blank spot in the bedroom of our vic's house. Something is off, I just can't place it.

We arrived to find Mr and Mrs Garret, a married middleclass couple in their late thirties, shot dead in their kitchen. No sign of forced entry and nothing is missing, or so I thought until I started working the bedroom. Something is missing here.

It's a lovely suburban home, with a picket fence and everything. If it wasn't for the two pools of blood on the kitchen floor it would look like the perfect American household.

I feel the adrenaline rushing through my body as I realise what it is that's off. The room is too small. There is a big part of the house that appears to be missing between the bedroom and the bathroom.

I start knocking on the wall, and sure enough, it sounds hollow. Now if I could only find the door to… Oh my god…

I stand there; arms limp at my sides and just gaze wide-jawed into the tiny, almost closet sized, room I've discovered before bursting out laughing. The things you find out about people in this job.

I start to walk inside, making sure the door doesn't close behind me as I start examining the secret room. The walls are lined with shelves and hooks showing off various tools and toys; it's like something out of Lady Heather's mansion.

I can't help but let my curiosity take charge, and after I've snapped a few pictures, I open up the big chest at the door.

"Oh my…" My eyes grow wide as I pull out one article of clothing after another. The right side seems to be reserved for various latex toys while the left one is filled with a wide variety of leather and lace attire. I stand up and unfold a barely there silky gown and hold it up to inspect. It looks a little too familiar for my liking.

"Holy shit." I hear behind me and I visibly jump.

"Shit, Sara!" I place my left arm on my pounding heart, forgetting that I'm still holding the silk dress. "Don't sneak up on people at a crime scene." I scold her, but she doesn't reply.

As I look back over at her I see why. Her eyes are glued to the sheer fabric that I've unconsciously pulled towards me.

"I think it's a bit too… pink for you." I tell her and seem to get her attention.

"Huh?" She looks up at me, confusion written all over her face. "Oh, no, I wasn't…"

"And I'm not quite sure it's your style, but if you like it that much it does come in different colours." I say conversationally as I fold the garment back up and replace it in the chest.

"And you know this how?" She asks as I move over to the objects hanging off the wall and snap a few pictures. Everything looks clean and undisturbed.

"I have one in black." I tell her as I pull an odd contraption off its hook, not waiting for her answer to my revelation. "I found something." I say, still looking at the tiny speck of red on the leather. "Hand me my kit." I ask her and about two seconds later there's a moist cotton swab in my hand. "Thanks." I offer, but do not dare to look at her in fear of loosing sight of the little spot.

"That's a weird place for blood." She says over my shoulder as I drip some clear liquid on the swab and it turns red.

"And you know this how?" I repeat her words with a grin before placing the cap on the swab and bagging it carefully.

"I have one at home." She says with a shrug of her shoulder. I think I snapped a vertebra or two as my neck cranes towards her. "I'll go process the bathroom." She adds with a smirk, leaving me in the Garret's playpen alone. Well shit, so much for having the last word around her.

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We get through the rest of the scene without any other incidents, I found a couple of other smears in the hidden room, and Sara was terribly excited about the samples she'd collected in the bathroom and kitchen.

I have a hard time telling my body to ignore the wide range of emotions it's going through because frankly it's freaking me out a bit. Teasing and flirting is one thing, but this is just lunacy, stupidity, suicide even. And I still refuse to acknowledge what it is, if it really is anything but me being silly.

We drop off a few bags with Wendy and she smirks widely as she pulls a rubber toy out of one of the bags.

"Don't even." I warn, pointing a stern finger at her.

"I didn't say anything." She holds her hands up in surrender, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes isn't lost on me.

"Just get to work on those will you." I say with a sigh and turn to leave.

"You could at least buy me dinner first Catherine." She says as she pulls on her gloves and starts preparing to process.

"Sorry Wendy." I turn as I get to the door. The Christmas break must have really put me in a playful mood. The wonders some time off can do for you. "You're just too… innocent for my taste." I smirk at her sudden loss for words before making my exit, fully aware that Sara is still standing by the door.

What is it with me? I can't seem to help teasing her. I don't want to admit how much I like getting her attention, how there is a soft tingle that seems to make its way down my spine every time she blushes. And somehow I can't escape the fact that getting a reaction from her is addicting. It's a dangerous game to play, but it's a delicious high.

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_Thanks for reading, I promise, the next update will not take as long._

_Jellicos_


	4. Misinterpretations

_Thank you all for your wonderful words of encouragement! You rock!! And as promised, this update is quicker, but a little… strange. Don't worry, there's a reason for that too, and I think you can guess it:)  
Enjoy my dears!_

_Jellicos_

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**Chapter four: Misinterpretations**

Ever since Lindsey showed up at my doorstep, Catherine has been acting peculiar. I can't say I mind it because I really don't. It just confuses the hell out of me. It's as if she knows how I feel and now she's playing games with me. Still, there is something about her that makes me come back for more instead of just running away like I know I should. Maybe it's just my wishful thinking, but my mind has made the decision to find out. Right now all I can do is follow her lead and hope it doesn't end in my emotional demise. I might have to postpone that payback plan of mine…

It was her complete dislike for me when I first arrived that attracted me to her. Weird, isn't it? She's sexy, no one with eyes can say otherwise. But it was during something as simple as seeing her hug her little girl a few months ago that made me realise that this was more than just a simple attraction.

Yes, I have feelings for Catherine. I wouldn't admit it out loud for anything in the world, but there it is. Really, how can you not fall for a woman who walks into a room and owns it? She knows exactly what effect she has on people, and she's fully aware of how her walk demands the attention of everyone around her.

That's the attraction, the feelings build their roots in how she'd sacrifice everything she is for the little blonde seven-year-old who hangs on her every word. It's the way she pushed herself that extra mile for the young woman who was hurt on our last case, or how her entire being lights up at the thought of something that can get her adrenaline flowing.

Fuck, I've got it bad.

Scratching my neck absentmindedly, I'm aware of how dangerous this path is.

Catherine and I have been working together for a little over three years now. And I can honestly say she's never really liked me. Hell, after Eddie's murder I was sure she hated my guts. Not that I can really blame her for her reactions, he was her husband and the father of her daughter. Closing the case was the hardest thing I can remember doing.

And now? The teasing, the occasional flirting… I can't help wonder if this is another one of her games or if this is her way of telling me that I'm one of the guys. I know it's nothing sexual; women don't come any straighter than Catherine Willows.

I jump at the sound of my beeper going off. Shit, I've been sitting in the break room for twenty minutes without doing anything.

It's Wendy, the test results are in. I must admit, the girl has some serious guts hitting on Catherine like that. No wonder I never really liked her, she's got the courage I lack.

Standing up, I discard the untouched paper cup of coffee I was supposed to be drinking and head towards the labs. Just as I'm about to enter, Catherine walks out waving a paper at me.

"We got a match off the harness thing." She says as she walks past me and I follow her, taking the paper she's offering me. "And I'm driving this time." She tells me and I know better than to argue.

--------------------

We arrive at the designated address and we're greeted by a barely clothed brunette in her late twenties. She invites us in and even I can see her eyes lingering on my legs as I make my way into the large one room apartment, closely followed by Catherine. I can't help but find it odd that anyone would be looking at me with my blonde co-worker in the room, but I do notice that Catherine isn't showing any sign of surprise as she starts the interrogation, though I do detect some irritation in her voice as the young woman keeps looking over at me as she replies even if Catherine is asking all the questions.

"What did you say your name was again?" She asks me as she stretches her left leg a little, making the thin negligee she's barely wearing slide up her thigh just a little bit more.

"Sara Sidle." I reply, refusing to take any notice of her blatant flirting. It's like she can see right through us, ignoring the straight blonde and hitting furiously on the one that would actually react… if it wasn't for said blonde. God I'm an idiot. "You were talking about what happened two nights ago?" I lead her back on track and I can hear Catherine huffing as the woman starts answering the question she didn't acknowledge from her. I suspect my co-worker isn't quite used to playing second string like this, usually she's the one in the spotlight and I can't help smirk at the fact that it seems to be getting to her.

"You look so familiar." She tells me at the end of her long statement about her games with our victims.

"I have one of those faces." I brush her off, but she's not that easily discouraged as she cocks her head slightly to one side and surveys me.

"So you didn't see them after that night then?" Thank god for Catherine's impatience. The woman turns to her with something of a surprised expression.

"Huh?" She asks and I can see Catherine's blood start to boil. "Oh, no, I didn't." She answers carelessly before turning back to me.

"You ever been to the Cherry Lounge?" She smirks at me.

"Mind if I take a look around?" Catherine asks her between clenched teeth and I have to bite my lip to keep from saying anything as the woman just waves her off and tells her to help herself.

"Not my scene." I answer her question as she directs her focus back onto me and I pull up a picture of the toy with her blood on it. "We found this at the scene, do you know it?" I ask and notice how her pupils widen just a little and her smirk grows. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Catherine stride off towards the bookshelves. She's still within hearing distance but now she can pretend not to notice.

"Oh yes, Mrs Garret loved that one. I wore it that night as a matter of fact." She muses as she takes the picture from me and is for a brief moment lost in thought. "Maybe I could show you how it works…" She looks up at me with what I think is supposed to be a seductive gaze.

"Sorry, you're not my type." I tell her coldly and snatch the photo back. She looks a little angered for a second, before her eyes find the back of Catherine's frame and my body freezes. She's still close enough to hear us.

"Oh, I see… You and blondie?" She asks and I really don't like the look in her eyes as she speaks.

"No." Is all I say, trying to ignore that saying it out loud actually hurts more than I had thought. "Just one more thing before we go…" I say as I stand up, anxious to get away from her and her questions. "Were you ever in the rest of the house? The kitchen, the bathroom…?"

"The Garret's preferred to keep it in the more… secluded areas of the house, if you catch my drift?" She says, her demeanour still reflecting some flirtation, but not quite as blatantly.

"So none of the rooms with large windows then?" I ask, making note of the glass wall between the kitchen and the garden, as well as the two heavy sliding glass doors in the den.

"That would be correct." She answered. "I'd come and leave through the back door, Mr Garret preferred we keep our time together in the privacy of the back part of the house; bedroom, bathroom, I assume you found the room?" She asks and I know what she's referring to.

"We did." I tell her. "Well, thank you for your time." I continue as I hand her my business card and look over at Catherine who is now standing at the door, looking like she's ready to bolt out of there as soon as I take a step. "We'll be in touch." I offer as I make my way over to the door.

"Please do." I hear her calling after me as we walk out the door and I see Catherine sneering.

"She's lying." I say as soon as we're safely in the car on our way back to the labs.

"Who? Your friend?" She asks me scornfully. I can't believe she's this petty!

"Don't start with me." I warn her in a tired voice. We were getting on so well and I really don't want to start fighting her again.

"Start what? You'd make a cute couple." She says, her eyes fully focused on the road ahead and she leans on the horn a bit too roughly as a car cuts her off.

"You can't stand not being the centre of attention can you?" I ask, turning so I'm facing her in my seat.

"What?!" She looks genuinely shocked at my words as she turns towards me, but then quickly turns back as the car behind us honks. "You can't…" She trails off and now it's my turn to look confused. "Forget it." She mutters through her teeth and I get the distinct feeling I've just missed something. I called her on something and she doesn't take the chance to yell at me? What the hell?

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_-mwahahaha-_


	5. Quid Pro Quo

_I'm really sorry for the constant long delays. I think my muse is moonlighting somewhere else. Maybe that's why this story is turning out to be so… well, odd. Twists and turns, left and right, and here's another one. (Apparently I have a momentary dislike for following my plotlines...)  
Thank you all so much for your reviews, you get me hooked and I keep coming back for more:)_

_Love,  
Jellicos_

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**Chapter Five: Quid pro Quo  
**

I couldn't tell her that it got to me to see that slut of a woman hitting on her. I couldn't tell her that it hurt when she told her that we weren't together. I preferred to let her think it was because the woman hit on her and not me, even thought it bugs the hell out of me that she would ever think that. But it bugs me even more that I can't deny my jealousy.

We're not together, and before today I honestly hadn't considered it either. Was that what I wanted? All I know is that hearing her saying that got to me and I didn't like it at all.

I should go and apologise, she really didn't do anything wrong. Only I can't for the life of me come up with a good explanation as to why I reacted like I did. Actually, I can't justify it even to myself and it scares me because I know perfectly well what that means.

I bury my face in my hands as it washes over me; I have feelings for Sara Sidle. Shit, this is so not my day. Damn her and that music box! If it wasn't for that damned thing I never would have even entertained the thought that Sara meant more to me than just a co-worker. An attractive co-worker, but still nothing more then that.

Instead of doing what I know I should, I bury myself in the evidence before me, paying close attention to anything that could solve this case quickly and hence end all future contact with the trashy brunette from a few hours ago.

It doesn't look good though. From Sara's notes I can see that the girl swore she was never in Mr Garret's den, but her fingerprints were found in his file cabinet. In fact, all evidence so far seems to be pointing in one direction. I'll have to call Brass, get the girl in here.

"Hey Catherine?" I look up at the sound of her voice, cursing myself for noticing how snugly that top fits her.

"Yeah." I exhale, throwing away the paper in my hands so it lands on top of far too many others just like it.

"Brass brought the girl in and I'm on my way to talk to her now." Is she kidding? What the hell?

"Excuse me?" I ask, pulling my glasses from my nose and standing up. She can't be serious.

"You got my page didn't you?" She wasn't kidding; she actually went behind my back to get a chance to talk to the little slut again!

"You don't bring someone in without checking with me first Sara; I have seniority on this case, what the hell…" She cuts me off! Oh this is war!

"It's a slam dunk case! I paged you, you didn't get back to me, I just thought with what happened before…" My turn to cut her off.

"Don't even...!" I trail off. "You don't go behind my back! You don't bring someone in without asking me first! And you sure as hell don't use the lab to get laid!" Ok, so I may have taken it a little too far there.

"What?!" Ok, she's pissed; I should probably say something less mean. "That's rich coming from you." Ow, that hurt. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her like she's shielding herself against attack. That's a good strategy right now.

"What's your problem Sidle?" I ask advancing on her because I know it makes her nervous. "That I'm on to you or that I can get a date without bringing them in on charges?" I see the hurt quickly flicker over her eyes before she straightens up, towering over me. Her hands are shaking slightly with the adrenaline and her eyes are so dark they're shooting daggers at me.

"Yeah, because you have the best track record ever." She scoffs as she leans closer to me. "How many of your old flings have ended up in our interrogation room, huh?"

"Go to hell." I hiss before turning away from her, the knock on my door couldn't have come at a better time.

"Ladies, your suspect is waiting…" Brass' head pokes in the door and he looks a little confused as he looks from Sara to me. "Something going on?" He asks cautiously.

"No, let's go." I answer curtly before Sara gets a chance, grabbing my purse and jacket before pushing past them both. If she thought I wouldn't be watching this entire interrogation she's insane.

----------------

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm insane; I've gone around the bend… twice.

Tracy Hogan is casually leaned back in the cold metal chair, her eyes never leaving Sara who looks completely unaware of Ms Hogan's poorly skilled flirting. I might have added the 'poorly skilled' comment, but then, anyone who'd witness this display would agree with me. I'm pretty sure.

My frustration is evident as I pull my fingers through my hair for the second time in the past thirty seconds. This is taking too long.

"Aw, common, you're telling me you never wondered what was in those big locked file cabinets?" I hear Sara's voice coaxing from the other side of the one-way mirrored glass. I'm sure we're wasting our time, there's no way Miss Bimbo over there would ever have the brains to pull off a double murder like this.

When my phone rings, I take a deep breath before answering it, less my frustration shows too much.

"Willows." I am irritated though not very surprised at how impatient my voice is.

"How much do you love me?" Oh good god, I'm so not in the mood for one of Greg's guessing games tonight.

"Spill it Sanders." I say, restraining myself from verbally abusing the poor kid who did nothing wrong except have a bad timing. He pauses for a moment, undoubtedly trying to assess the danger of continuing his game. Thankfully he seems to decide on staying in one piece today.

"I just got done with the bullet you guys collected from the vic's house." Ok, is everyone around here unsure of what the hell they're supposed to be doing?

"What are you doing with the bullet?" This is a very odd day.

"Bobby found some trace on it and sent it over. Blood more precise." Well, gee, that's unusual.

"So? There were two gunshot victims in the house." He didn't call me just for this, did he?

"It's not the victims' blood." Oh, now we're getting somewhere.

"You got a match?" I ask, ignoring how hopeful my voice just got.

"Same donor as from the harness; Tracy Hogan." Yes! We got her.

"I really do love you Greg." I smirk, I'm in a good mood and he deserves it. Just once.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I can practically hear him blushing.

"Thanks." I offer and flip my phone shut before opening the door to the interrogation room. Little miss flirts-a-lot isn't too happy seeing me, but I couldn't care less right now, she's going down.

Sara looks ready to stop me from making a scene before I lean down and whisper the results of Greg's tests in her ear. I take my time and I pretend it's because it makes our suspect irritated, but really it's because I like the scent of her soap.

I can see Sara's eyes twinkle as I pull back a little and a tingle goes down my stomach as I see her gaze resting a second too long on my lips. She doesn't smile, doesn't give anything away, and I make my way out the door to my safe location behind the tinted glass, feeling slightly light-headed.

The feeling doesn't last long, and after Sara has confronted the suspect with our findings I find a shill making its way down my back. Tracy's desperate and awkwardly sexual exterior vanishes in front of me and grows cold and hard. Again Sara makes no sign to indicate she's even noticed the change, but I can see her jaw tense.

"…what I still haven't figured out is how your blood got on the bullet." She says, arranging her papers before looking up into the now expressionless face of Ms Hogan.

"You really want to know?" Her voice sounds scornful, angry, as if the world has made her its scapegoat and now Sara's the only representative of that world she can take her frustration out on. I should pull her out, we got what we needed, and this could get bad.

"Yeah, I do." Sara leans her arms on the table and I know that look on her face, she wants to know, she wants closure and I'm going to be ready to send five officers in there on a split seconds notice.

"Quid pro quo Sara, a question for a question." She doesn't have to do this. I look over at Brass who is standing in the far corner of the room, his eyes never leaving the suspect but right now I'd feel more at ease if his hand was on his gun instead of crossed over his chest. He doesn't look worried though, so I decide I'm overreacting.

"You first. How did you blood end up on the bullet?" She's not budging. Tracy lifts up her hand and wiggles her fingers around in the air.

"I'm not very used to firearms; they're much more difficult to load than you'd think." She holds up her thumb, indicating the tiny cut on it. How did I miss that? Oh, right… I was busy being jealous. Wait, pissed! I meant pissed! I was busy being pissed off. Oh crap, who am I kidding?

"My turn." Tracy sits back, smirking. "Are you and blondie dating?" Ok, how is that relevant?

"You already asked me that, and my answer hasn't changed." Sara holds her ground, but her eyes make a detour to the table.

"So, that would be a no." Good deduction Sherlock.

"Yeah, that would be a no. Why did you kill them?" Does she sound angrier?

"Callie couldn't keep her fat nose out of other people's business." She spat out. Oh my, a crack in the wall of cool?

"Callie?" Sara looked through her papers quickly. "Mrs Garret?"

"Yeah." She scoffed, her fingers tapping furiously against the metal of the table. "She just had to go snooping around, couldn't just leave it alone."

"What did she find?" Sara was getting sucked in and she knew it.

"That was another question." She smiled wickedly.

"Alright, shoot." I could see the frustration building in her and Brass was casting glances at me through the mirror glass. We would have to stop this, and soon.

"You find her attractive?" She asks and Sara looks confused.

"Who?"

"Blondie." She clarifies and I can see a slight reddening of Sara's cheeks. Ok, maybe not quite so soon.

"She's beautiful; anyone with eyes could see that." She shrugs and I can't help but smile. Yeah, I know I'm easy on the eyes, but its different coming from Sara. I bite my lip to force myself to back away from that line of thinking, at least for now.

"That's not what I asked you." Tracy says a gleam in her eyes.

"She's attractive." She states as if she'd just been asked the time. "Now what did Mrs Garret find that made you shoot her and her husband?"

"Well, Jason was just in the way, the bastard had to play a hero." She almost laughs at the last part, the cold amusement in her voice making me feel sick to my stomach.

"You didn't answer my question." Sara reminds her.

"That she had the nerve to pretend to be morally superior after what we'd done together was laughable." She didn't laugh however. "But once she found out, she confronted me about it, waving the stupid report in my face, telling me how sick I was. You think I'd take that from someone like her?" Her face contorted with rage and hatred.

"What did she find?" Sara asked again.

"I get to ask one more question first." Tracy says, testing the ground.

"Fine." Sara sighs. No, not fine! I want to smack her over the head. She just gave away her upper hand! But Tracy is smirking like never before.

"Do you dream about her at night?" Oh.my.god. Sara, get out of there now.

"Excuse me?" She's torn between wanting to know and realising she's being played.

"Blondie, do you dream abo-" She doesn't get to finish, seems like Brass had the same thoughts I had.

"Alright, we're done here." He says, gesturing for the uniform at the door to take Tracy back to her cell. Me, I'm being torn between relief and the slight disappointment at not hearing Sara's answer to the question.

"You did good in there." Is the first thing I say when she walks into the little backroom where I've been listening all this time.

"She played me." I'm not sure if she's embarrassed or angry, either way she's not meeting my eye.

"We got what we needed." I remind her with a soft squeeze of her upper arm. Her eyes jump up to where my hand meets her arm. "Case closed." She nods her head and finally looks up at me.

"We should head back." She says, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Here." I say as I toss her the keys to the car. She looks down at them, then at me.

"You… want me to drive?" She asks so incredulously I have to smile.

"Your reward for closing the case Sidle. Don't let it get to your head." I say as I make my way past her to open the door.

"Gee, breakfast would have killed you?" She teases as we make our way out of the room and through the police station. Sometime we'll have to address the fact that we seem to constantly hurt each other verbally, but right now we're both too high on our victory.

"Depends…" It's now or never, and I'm feeling particularly good right now.

"Depends on what?" She asks as we walk through the doors out to the parking lot.

"On your answer to Tracy Hogan's question. Do you dream about me at night?"

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_Oh, I know, but it wouldn't be very characteristic of me to leave you without an evil cliffie, would it:)_


	6. The Games People Play

_For your patience and your wonderful words of encouragement.  
I hope you like it, there is one more to go I think… or two:)  
(and JoJo, you're on to me)_

Love,  
Jellicos

_-------------------------------------_

**The Games People Play**

I feel like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on my head, then pointed and laughed. Did she say what I think she said?

Stopping dead in my tracks, holding on to the front door for dear life, I venture a glance at my colleague. She's turned to face me, her right hand propped up on her hip, head cocked slightly to her side and that mischievous smirk firmly in place. Oh yeah, she said exactly what I think she said.

She has that look too, the one that says she has me exactly where she wants me, that smug look that only she can make into an art of seduction. Oh no, I don't think so Willows.

I know I must look like a goldfish that by some fluke of nature just sprung legs and lungs and is now desperately trying to figure out how not to gape and actually move those odd limbs she grew. It takes me all of five seconds to get myself together. She's not getting away with this.

"Oh no, this is a quid pro quo kind of game Catherine. If I answer your question you'll have to answer one of mine." I tell her and feel my adrenaline rise as her eyes widen slightly. She did not expect that and I have to admit that I love throwing her off her game. It lasts but a second and a half before her trademark cool is back and she does that cock of her head that makes her hair fall over her shoulder. God she's gorgeous.

"Deal." She says before walking away from me. I'm about to object before I realise we're in the parking lot outside the police station and she's making her way towards our car.

Thinking is not my strong point around her.

Tossing the keys up in the air, I snatch them back into my left hand before making my way over to her. I don't know what's going on or were she's going with this. I know eventually I'll have to bring up the fight we had and kill the mood, but right now I'm enjoying her flirting a little too much to even consider changing the subject. Because right now even I can tell she's flirting with me.

Her expectant look as I make myself comfortable in the drivers' seat reminds me I have yet to answer her question.

"The answer to your question is yes by the way." I say as casually as I possibly can, leaving enough room for her to wonder if that means anything at all.

"Really?" She says and I feel myself smile at the smug tone of her voice.

"Yeah, I had this really freaky dream involving you, Greg and a goat in a hat that…" I start telling her before she cuts me off.

"Oh shut up." She chuckles, that soft throaty sound that makes me shiver. I don't tell her that the dream ended without Greg, the goat… and clothes.

"My turn." I say, wondering why my voice suddenly grew a little more serious with those two words.

"Shoot." She says and I feel her eyes on my face.

"Did you mean what you said in your office?" The words slip out before I can stop them. I'd wanted to ask her something flirty, something light that would bring out that cute chuckle again. And when she sighs at my words I really wish I had.

"No, I didn't." Her voice is so quiet I have to turn my head slightly to make sure I didn't miss anything. "Well, that's not entirely true." She's squirming and I feel my insides turn to stone. "I meant the part about not checking with me first, but I took it too far and I'm sorry." A honk of a horn behind us makes me realise I've been watching her and not what I'm doing, so I tear my attention back to the road and I stay silent for a moment while trying to grasp what just happened.

Catherine Willows just apologised to me.

"I'm sorry too." I hear a tiny voice say and I realise it escaped from my lips. Since my mind decided to go ahead without me, I quickly sum up my wits to make it good. "I was way out of line and as for not checking with you…" How do I say this? "I just thought, after the thing yesterday…"

"Let's just forget it, okay?" She says and I'm tempted to accept, there is just one more thing I have to clear up.

"I wasn't flirting with her." Ok, that sounded much less stupid in my head.

"I know." What? She does? But…

"But you said…" I try.

"Just forget it, okay?" Her words are more urgent as she cuts me off and I can't shake the feeling that there is something she's not telling me.

"I just want to clear this up, the way you…" Damn it! Can she let me finish one sentence?

"God! Don't you ever just drop things? For Christ sake Sidle!" She explodes, her palm hitting the dashboard with a little too much force. Why is she being so defensive? She can't be that embarrassed about her behaviour, can she? I mean sure, she acted completely irrationally and… Then it dawns on me, like when the little light bulbs light up above the heads of cartoon characters.

"You were jealous." It's out of my mouth before I even think it and from the look on her face I can tell she's shocked.

"I… what?" She averts her eyes and that's when I know I'm right. "That's ridiculous." She scoffs, but refuses to look at me as her hand moving up to scratch her neck, hiding her face.

I don't speak, the suddenly so palpable reason for her recent behaviour is making it somewhat difficult for me to form coherent thoughts. She was jealous? Of me and what's-her-face? Oh my…

"I… may have been a little…" She's fumbling with her words.

"Green eyed monster?" I offer, not able to hide the wide smile on my face. I really shouldn't tease her, but as my mind catches up to realise what this means, I can't help myself.

"Affected." She stresses her word but I see the slight tug on the corner of her lips that she's so desperately trying to hide. This is insane.

"This is insane." Ok, I should stop just saying things that come to my mind without some form of editing in between.

"Excuse me?" She's confused; no wonder. We've reached the parking lot outside of headquarters and I kill the engine to be able to face her when I say this, less she takes it the wrong way.

"It's insane." I repeat myself as I turn in my seat, her eyes suspiciously locking with mine. "You were jealous? You're Catherine Willows!" It's so completely absurd and she doesn't get it, she's just looking at me like I've just announced that I'm retiring to become a door to door laundry detergent salesman.

"You lost me." Well, obviously.

"Ok, here." I lean across the dashboard to the little mirror hanging from the roof, turning it so I'm sure it will reflect her face.

"What? I've got something on my face?" She asks, furrowing her brow at her reflection.

"Oh, don't give me that. You know you're gorgeous, everyone with eyes knows that." I roll my eyes at her.

"This…" She looks back at me as I speak and I stress my point by placing my index finger on her chin, forcing her eyes back on her own reflection. "…is one reason why jealousy from you is so insane. Another one is in here…" I move my finger to tap her gently on her forehead. "But most of them are in here…" I move my finger down to her chest, slightly above her left breast. "Don't you get it?" I stop speaking as she turns to face me.

I never imagined how the sight of a few salty water droplets falling down her cheek would make my heart stop.

"Catherine, I…" But she abruptly stops any other words from escaping my lips by blocking them with her own. Caught so completely off guard, my body reveals my shock with its limpness as my mind manages to register the soft brush of her lips to mine. I don't know when my eyes closed, but I think they are, even if my mind can still picture her in front of me.

Before I can will my stunned body to react, she pulls back again and all I can hear is my mind shouting at me to get her back where she was.

"Thank you." I hear her whisper; it's so soft and fragile that my eyes flutter open at the sound. She's still sitting close, her eyes searching my face for some sort of confirmation. This is when my body decides to kick in and without another thought I've leaned in again and her lips are back where they belong, gently nibbling, tentatively searching. I just need to feel her, taste her, to remember the texture of her mouth.

Our kiss is soft, delicate, like we're both tasting a glass of fine wine, familiarising ourselves with the taste, savouring the feeling. Dizziness never felt so good. And it's when her hand snakes around my neck and up the base to my hair that I know I have to stop this before I lose what's left of my self-control.

I curse my stupid logic the second I open my eyes to the sight of her. Her eyes still closed and her lips slightly parted she looks incredible, breathtaking, "perfect." I don't realise that I've spoken out loud until she opens her eyes and smiles at me.

"I'll say." She breathes and I feel my cheeks burn a little. There isn't a thing in this world sexier than a confident Catherine.

"What now?" Okay, didn't I just have the internal monologue about my mind and mouth working together to edit what comes out and what should be left to silent pondering?

"We go back to work." She says casually as she straightens up and grabs her purse. I'm still sitting there, not quite sure what the hell just happened. Work? She's just going to walk away and get to work as if we hadn't just shared this amazing kiss?

She must have noticed because she turns just before exiting the car and looks at me.

"The New Years Eve party starts at seven and you are wearing a dress." She states as she slides her legs out of the car and stands up on the asphalt. "Pick me up at six thirty." She adds that sexy half smile and then she's gone.

The New Years party? The annual staff New Years Eve Party? In a dress? Do I even own a dress? I'll need to go shopping then. The entire team is going to be there. Is this a date?

Oh god…

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_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think? Suggestions? Ways of improvement on the story or writing? Let me know:)_


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